


Condemned

by GatsbyStories



Category: Jacksepticeye (RPF), Markiplier (RPF), Septiplier - Fandom, Youtubers
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Domestic, Fluff, Hallucinations, M/M, Self-Harm, nsfw kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-05-14 10:03:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5739511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GatsbyStories/pseuds/GatsbyStories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark and Jack are sent a game by an unknown fan. This digital nightmare becomes their reality when it brings their inner demons and fears to life. Both only believing in each other, they fight against the intangible forces to remain sane... and alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Most of the issues Jack and Mark face in this are things I myself have had to overcome. The hallucinations, nightmares that keep you awake, not eating out of lack of sleep and anxiety, and unknowing how I had some injuries. )

Mark lay in his bed, tossing and turning under the grip of a foreboding nightmare that had a hold of him. He sat up quickly in a cold sweat, heavy breathing escaped his lips. Jack sat up beside him, Mark's restless movement had woke him a few moments ago.  
"Mark, are ya alright? Ya seem scared 'out yer wits" the Irishman tiredly said.  
"Y-Yeah, I'm fine, Jack. They're just nightmares" Mark said quietly as he ran his hands through his sweat drenched hair.  
Jack sat up fully and put his hand on Mark's shoulder; his strong muscles were so tense. "Mark," Jack started, "Ya should go take a cold show'r. Cool down yer head."  
The strong man gave a small nod then gave Jack a kiss on the cheek, "You go back to bed Jack, you need your sleep. We both have a long day ahead of us tomorrow." Mark spoke with a gentle smile to the shorter man.  
McLoughlin chuckled under his breath before kissing Mark on the lips. The two embraced a small moment before Mark stood from the bed. Jack layed back down in the bed, covering up as the other man left for the bathroom. Mark turned on the shower water before looking at himself in the mirror. He felt his face a moment and examined his appearance. He hadn't shave in a while but, nobody seemed to mind. His fans loved it, as did Jack. Fischbach took off his pajama pants, boxers and socks before getting into the freezing cold shower. It felt wonderful on his blazing skin. That nightmare really got to him. He was being tortured every night by the same nightmare. Red eyes staring at his very soul and white fangs tearing into him. A large hand gripping his throat and holding tighter every second. Whatever this beast was, it was feeling more real with each night. None of this started to happen until Mark got a game in the mail from an unknown sender. The title was "Condemned", a horror game it seemed. Of course, he gave it a try before recording for the subscribers. It was.. unnerving. The graphics were poor and it seemed to lag. What actually scared Mark was the fact that the main villain.. Was himself. A very poor rendering of himself. Graphics and models similar to N-64 "Majora's Mask", a Zelda game.  
It was very uncanny how much the model looked like Mark. But there were very small differences. Pointed ears, white fangs and red eyes. This wasn't Mark. It was something inhuman. Why would somebody make this? Was it just to frighten Mark? It was all so strange. The man was lost in his thought but soon stepped out of the shower. Mark looked at himself in the mirror as he brushed out his hair. He paused a moment and leaned in close to get a better look. His reflection was different then when he got in the shower. Pointed ears... Sharp fangs, and red eyes! What the hell was going on?! Mark kept staring then moved a bit to see if the odd reflection would follow. It mimicked just as he moved. Like it was his very own appearance his whole life. The man took a step back.. The reflection stayed put.  
Mark's breathing picked up when the evil reflection smirked then lunged forward. The strong man yelled loud as he stumbled backwards against the bathroom wall, seemingly attacked by nothing. He looked around in a panic, trying to understand what exactly just happened. The sound of running footsteps grew close. Jack threw open the door, kneeling down to the fallen Mark.  
"What the hell happened, Mark?! Are ya okay?!" Jack asked in a worried tone.  
Fischbach felt his head then looked to Jack, "Y-Yeah I just slipped, I guess. Something kinda spooked me is all, Booper."  
Jack hugged Mark close though he obviously didn't care that Mark was soaking wet and in a towel.  
"Yer nightmares 're gettin' to ya, Mark. I'm worried for ya," Jack kissed a bump on Mark's head. "Maybe ya should just catch up on yer sleep tom'arra, okay?"  
The strong man shook his head, "I can't skip an upload, my fans will think I"m dead!" Mark spoke dramatically to try and lighten the mood.  
"Mark, I'm worried 'bout ya! Ya haven't slept solid in four days, ya never eat and, ya haven't been as social."  
"Sorry Jack.. I just feel a bit off my game." Mark sighed and rest his head against Jack's chest, his eyes very heavy.  
Without another word, Jack helped Mark back to the bedroom and into bed. Mark was passed out within seconds of laying down. Jack covered him up then turned out the lights. Now he was wide awake from that scare. McLoughlin made his way to the kitchen and started up the coffee machine. As he waited, Jack opened up his laptop to check his Email. Nothing much different from the usual. He smiled as he read through a few letters from his fans. Once the coffee was done, he sat down on the couch in the living room with his laptop. Jack scrolled down a bit until something caught his eye. A subject named "NEW GAME". Curiousity kicked in imminently. He clicked on the email and found out it was the same game sent to Mark last week. "Condemned". What was with this game? Jack clicked on a few things to delete it along with other spam. But.. the game started to download instead.  
"What the fock?" Jack exclaimed quietly to himself.  
He tried quickly to cancel the download but it was already installed when he was about to rid of it. This was more weird than anything. It just started to download all on its own! A damn email.. the game must have been a virus. Jack located the file with ease but when he tried to uninstall it.. Of course, the game launched. The Irishman clenched his teeth and cursed as quietly as he could. He really didn't want to wake up Mark. Jack's hands rested on his keyboard; might as well play while it's up. The title came up in crudely "carved" in letters "CONDEMNED".  
Jack shook his head softly, "Lookin' like Slender typin'. What is this, a Slenderman game?"  
He spoke to himself as if he was recording a Let's Play. After pressing start, the game dropped into a first person perspective. There was no background or foreground, just a white path in a black space. This was fucking strange. Moving forward on the path seemed to be getting Jack nowhere fast. Nonetheless, he kept going. Jack squinted a bit and got closer to the screen, like he saw something. It was a character model at the end of the path.. in the same style as in "Majora's Mask". He pulled away from the screen a bit when he got close to the model. It was of himself. But something was very wrong. His right eye was missing and the other eye was like SepticEye Sam. Green where the white should be with a deep blue iris. His hair was wild, ears were pointed and teeth were sharp. This can't be the same game that Mark received. What the hell was going on?! The more Jack looked at the figure, the more he grew uncomfortable. His chest began to tighten and feel hollow at the same time. Jack felt a small pain in his left eye, rubbing it to try and relieve it. When he pulled his hand away... there was blood.  
His chest tightened further. Jack held his eye as he rushed to the bathroom. He looked at his eye in the mirror.. Nothing was wrong. What..? Jack looked at his hand just to see a cut on his palm. It was bleeding somewhat badly but, how the hell did it even get there? Maybe his coffee cup had a chip in it then cut him. A cut that bad should have at least hurt, or very much been remembered! McLoughlin wrapped his hand with gauze and bandages before returning to his laptop. He closed out the game, closed his laptop then head back to bed with Mark. The lean man layed down beside his stronger lover. Jack felt so safe around the muscular man. Jack tried to forget about the game by cuddling against Mark; in return Fischbach put his arm around Jack to pull him close. Even in slumber, Mark was so kind and was always there when Jack needed him. The Irishman listened to the other man's heart beat steadily in his chest. Maybe everything would be better in the morning.  
~~~~  
The most annoying sound rang through the air of the room. The damn alarm clock. Jack slammed his hand down on the cursed clock then punched it a few times when it didn't stop. The Irishman sat up from the bed, stretching out his arms. Mark was missing from the bed.. Where was he? The question was soon answered when the short man smelled breakfast. He stood from the bed then made his way to the kitchen. Mark was in his boxers at the stove, bacon cooking alongside sliced potatoes. Jack walked up behind the man, putting his arms around him. The half Korean man chuckled softly before turning to Jack.  
He kissed the Irishman's forehead, "Good morning, Booper."  
Jack chuckled in return, "Top'a da mornin' to ya, laddie."  
Mark rest his large hands on Jack's hips as he placed a light kiss on the other man's lips. Jack kissed back with a smile, his hands on Mark's shoulders. Both Jack and Mark loved the mornings like this. Soft kisses, breakfast ready to eat, and the occasional lovely romp. Jack hadn't been feeling up to any love making since Mark has had no sleep in a long time. McLoughlin ran a hand through the blue fluff of Mark's hair and in return, Mark rest his chin on the green of Jack's hair.  
"I made potatoes and bacon," Mark muttered softly.  
"Why do ya always try and make me spuds?" Jack laughed softy. "Jus' 'cause I'm Irish doesn't mean I'm obsessed with potatoes."  
"So.. You don't want potatoes?"  
"Fock yes, of carse I do, moron!"  
The two laughed together, the joyous sound filled the room. Mark plated the fried potatoes and bacon for them both.  
"So Jack, you wanna have a few drinks later tonight?" Mark said as he poured them both a glass of milk.  
"Eh, I'm not sure, Mark. I mean, I'm more worried about ya than drinkin'," Jack took a bite of the potatoes then made an odd face. "..the hell'd you put in these?"  
"Just some seasoning, why?" Mark raised his eyebrow then took a bite as well. The Korean man put his hand over his own mouth then spit the potatoes out into the sink. "Fuck!" Mark coughed a bit then drank down some milk. "Yeah, no potatoes."  
Jack chuckled then stood from the table to get something else from the kitchen. The Irishman took a bite of a perfectly red apple then smirked softly at Mark. Fischbach was bent over slightly over the counter checking his Instagram, Twitter and whatnot. Jack tapped Mark's butt as he passed back. The tap made Mark jump softly then he smirked.  
"That's my job Sean," Mark teased.  
Mark quickly ducked when the apple whizzed over his head. The fruit shattered the window above the sink.  
"SHUT UP MARK!!" Jack yelled from the living room.  
Mark bust out into laughter and obviously didn't care about the window at the moment. He loved to mess with Jack like that. Calling him "Sean" was the best way to get a hard laugh.  
The short man sat on the couch with a irritated huff. Jack looked at his hand a moment, staring at the bandages. He had forgotten about the gash on his palm. The white gauze was bloody and he should probably change the binding. But, Jack didn't want Mark to worry about him. Mark was the kind of man who is extremely easily distracted when something is put before him that is either too damn hilarious, or his ass just isn't paying attention. Of course, he didn't notice the bandages. McLoughlin removed the bandages then examined the cut more thoroughly. It looked like it was done by a knife, not a chipped coffee mug. Coffee.. That was all Jack needed.  
"MARK!" Jack yelled. "Make me some coffee and I'll forgive ya!"  
"Take a shower and I'll make the coffee!" Mark yelled back.  
Jack groaned loudly then flopped on the couch, "Show'rin' is the least important thing on my mind!"  
"Go take a shower Jack! You haven't showered in three days."  
McLoughlin rolled off the couch, his face down on the carpet. Jack wiggled softly then worked his way up to his knees then to his feet.  
"Fockin' hell," Jack muttered.  
He walked to the bathroom and closed the door, locking it. Mark started up the coffee machine for Jack's favorite brew. He rubbed his forehead a bit then his eyes. He was exhausted. That night was the first time he had slept in four days. The nightmare was so terrifying.. He was staring to see things when he was awake. See him. Those eyes, red eyes, the eyes that saw through his very being. Mark saw them every time he closed his eyes. Like he was really there.. This dark version of Mark Fischbach.  
"Darkiplier," Mark whispered to himself. "That's what this bastard will be called. He's tortured me for far too long."  
The man ran his hands through his hair with a deep sigh. His chest felt so tight and restricted. Mark put his hand over his chest then winced softly. It almost hurt him to breath. This had never happened before... Mark had never felt like this. The exhaustion mixed with hunger but no appetite was taking a tole on Mark. He couldn't hold any food down, it just made him feel sick. But, he knew he had to stay strong.. Jack was always worrying. Mark shook his head softly then made his way to the bedroom to get dressed for his day. All he really wanted to do was sleep but, his channel and fans came first. Making others happy and smile were what he lived for.  
For some time, he had been planning another charity live stream with Bob and Wade but he kept postponing it. Mark couldn't keep his eyes open most of the time. Even when he could sleep, he always woke up when the beast had its hands around Mark's neck. The man looked to the bed, giving a sigh, he layed down.  
"Just a quick nap. An hour at most," he said to himself.  
Soon after laying his head down on the pillow that read "INHALE MY DONG", Mark fell asleep. Dreaming started almost instantly.  
Mark walked through the dark, empty space he was placed in. Suddenly, pain racked through his back as he collapsed to the ground. Upon turning around, Mark saw him, standing with a baseball bat resting against his shoulder.. Darkiplier.  
"You're pathetic, Markiplier," said the doppelganger. "I honestly don't understand why people look up to you. Or why that twig loves you."  
Mark fought through the pain to get onto his feet, "Don't talk crap about Jack. He is a great person."  
"Oh don't make me laugh. That little man isn't anything. Just like you, Mark. Both of you are nothing."  
"Shut up, bastard! I haven't met anyone who isn't important! Everybody has a purpose and a place in this world. And I belong at Jack's side as well as in the hearts of the people who support me."  
Darkiplier raised his eyebrow then laughed at the speech, "Wow, I'm about to fucking cry Markimoo." The fiend smirked then pointed the bat at Fischbach. "I want something that you have. A body. So how 'bout it? Switch me."  
"Are you insane?!" Mark yelled at the evil being. "I would never do that! You would destroy everything! You'd crush Jack and my fans! I care to much about all of them to let you so much as say a word with my face. You're sick, insane and just plain rude. I mean, who the hell just whacks somebody in the back with a bat?"  
"Hmm. Me," Darkiplier said as he pulled back the bat and swung hard.  
Mark jolted awake, sitting up quickly and panting hard. He grabbed the alarm clock to check the time. He had been asleep for four hours. The man stumbled to his feet then ran around the home to look for Jack. The Irishman must have left at some point, Jack was no where in the house. No car keys were hung up on the hooks by the door, Jack's hat and shoes were gone. Hopefully he was just out to get some food or something. Mark was freaking out and breathing rapidly. Fischbach hurried to the kitchen, filling a glass with tap water before drinking it quickly. He set the glass down with a hard thunk! The man ran his hands through his hair as he tried to calm himself. Where was Jack? Thoughts ran through Mark's head but nothing could stay for long. With a racing mind, he gazed into the sink. What he saw shocked him entirely. It was a bloody knife just sitting there. Scarlet droplets spattered the white porcelain, running down the sides a bit. It was like somebody just hacked at themselves almost... Oh no.. Jack what did you do?!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry for such a small chapter)

The Irishman was walking fast down the road, clutching his heavily bleeding arm. He was so scared. Jack had no idea what the hell happened to make this bad of a wound on his upper arm. McLoughlin had a tight hold on his bicep as he felt Mark's car keys in his pocket. The man walked into a pharmacy parking lot with crudely bandaged his arm. While wearing one of Mark's hoodies, Jack entered the store. He winced with almost every movement of his body. His blue eyes gazed around then took some gauze, medical needle and thread, alcohol pads and even.. antiseptic spray. As much as Jack found it ironic, his pain was too much to bare for the sake of humor. Thunder rumbled outside the store, lightning began to light the dark sky.  
"Fock. I better hurry up and get this shit fixed before it starts rainin'," Jack muttered to himself.  
His head was pounding in harsh rage. Jack leaned against the outside wall of the store after paying for the items. The man forced himself to move to the back of the pharmacy to mend himself. His vision was fading, the pain and blood loss was making him dizzy. Jack began to stitch the wound shut, biting down on the hoodie sleeve. It was difficult to sew the flesh and muscle through the pain and tears. Before pulling the wound closed, Jack cleaned out the horrible gash then tugged carefully on the thread. The wound sutured up perfectly. The Irishman gave a small smile at his handy work.  
"Huh. Guess I did learn something from 'Dark Cut'. Learned how to fockin' fix myself up all proper!" Jack stood carefully then leaned on the wall again.  
His head was whirling from all the trauma. Jack collapsed to the gravel and dirt, gripping his arm in sheer agony from the fall. Fire, acid and barbed wire combined could not even match the pain that Jack was in. He tried his hardest to keep awake but.. his mind slipped.  
Water splashed over Jack's face. McLoughlin sputtered and spat the water out of his mouth, coughing hard to get it out of his lungs. Jack stood as quick as he could and was face to face with that demon from the game. The "man's" right eye gouged out and his left eye bright green with a deep blue iris. He gave a smile full off sharp teeth.  
"Well looky-loo~ It's Jack-a-boy, finally gracin' me with his fockin' greatness," The fanged specter said.  
Jack gave a sneer back then tried to stand as tall as he could, "What the hell do you want, ya one-eyed creep?"  
The other smirked then grabbed Jack by his hoodie. With a fully pulled back fist, he slugged Jack square in the jaw. Jack's head snapped back at the harsh force of the blow. The Irishman stumbled back onto his ass with a hand over his mouth, spitting out a molar tooth. Jack stared up at the anit-Jack, he was looking at his bleeding knuckles.  
"So, Jack~You look good like that. On your damn knees and bleeding," Anitsepticeye grabbed Jack by his hoodie then pulled him to closer to his face.  
Jack was so dizzy now, the blow really knocked him silly. He couldn't keep his eyes open any longer... his head drooped down.  
McLoughlin's eyes slowly peeked open when he felt like he was in a car. He mumbled softly then looked around a bit.. It was Mark's car. It was nice and warm in the car, better than the rain outside. Jack curled up in the seats and his eyes closed again.  
Mark pulled into the driveway of their home, being very careful to pick Jack up. Markiplier carried Jack inside, laying the wounded man down in the bed; covering him up.


	3. Chapter 3

This was getting way out of hand. With the combinations of Mark's sleeping issues and hallucinations and Jack's unintentional self-mutilations; things were just going straight to hell. With a heavy sigh, Mark left the room to sit at his computer. The man couldn't even blink without seeing his evil demon stalking close behind. It was driving Mark insane! Darkiplier was haunting every corner, inside every shadow. The red eyes watching Mark every single agonizing second. He tried to seek comfort in reading comments on Youtube and asks on Tumblr. A gentle smile did creep on Fischbach's lips as he kept reading the heart-felt words of his fans. Mark never thought he deserved alll the kindness that his fans showered him with. They were the ones who were helping him! 

Without his fans, Mark wouldn't have a true reason to keep doing what he really loved. But things weren't like that at all. He had his fanbase along with a loving boyfriend. Jack was the highlight of each morning that shined on this great planet. That laugh, smile and energy is just what made Mark's days where continuing. The half Korean man paused in his emails when he saw one addressed by the unknown person that had sent him "Condemned". Oh did he have a thing or two to tell this developer. Typing away at an email to this person, his words stopped showing up as he typed. Mark's hands began to shake as he read words typing on their own. Words showing up,

"hello mark. you know who this is. your demon you've named darkiplier. look. we both know that you're tired and exhausted. maybe you should take a break and let me take over for a year or two."

 

Mark yanked the cord from the wall, his computer immediately shutting down. His heart was racing and beating out of his chest. This was just crazy. Wrong. Impossible. Rushing footsteps echoed through the house as Mark threw himself out into the pouring down rain. The cold droplets dousing his flamed skin. Rain fell in mass amounts but it was relaxing at the same time. Lightning and thunder rattled the sky. So much rain was unusal for Los Angeles but the man wasn't complaining. Calming him almost immediately, cooling water running down his face and finally hitting the asphalt. His eyes were able to open, looking up at the sky due to his glasses. A thought heavy on his mind, he went to go check on Jack. Something caught his attention, the bushes moving. Mark made his way cautiously to the bush and moved it; there was nothing there. Blunt forced made the man crash into the sharp thorned bush, Darkiplier loomed over Mark. Sharp teeth sunk into his forearm as the Youtuber guarded himself from the demon's fangs. The ivory teeth were deep in his arm. After yelling out in pain, another voice rang out. The voice of a man. Mark opened his eyes to see it wasn't Darkiplier on his arm, it was a large canine snarling and growling 

The owner of the dog pulled it off of Mark, scolding the canine before helping Mark stand. 

"Dear God, are you alright?! Let me take you to a hospital, I am so sorry about this, she's never this aggressive before!" the man wailed in horror for his dog's unusual behavior. Mark covered the bleeding bite with is hand then smiled at the man.

"N-No no, I think I'll be fine. I have a first-aid kit in my house... Thank you," was all Mark said before going back into his house. With a shaking hand and body, Fischbach mended his arm after cleaning it up. The demon smirked from the corner of the room, walking to Mark. 

"Woops~ Looks like you had some doggie issues, Mark." 

The man glared up at Darkiplier from his place at the table, "You're not real. You don't exist."

Darkiplier put his hands over his heart, "Ouch, that really fucking hurt, Markimoo."

The half Korean man stood and grabbed the specter but the shirt, "You listen to me and listen good. Get out of my head and leave me and Jack alone."

"What? I haven't touched Jack. I have nothing to do with that hairy twig."

Mark closed his eyes and swung hard at Darkiplier but his fist just slammed against a cabinet in front of him. He was gone. His body trembled, looking around the room in deep hysteria. This... This wasn't right. He felt like he was losing it altogether. Mark's mind was fleeting, gone, going insane. He couldn't keep doing this. The pain was too much. What if he ended it all then and there? All the necessary items where there. Knives, blunt objects, many things to induce electrocution.   
"Mark?" it was Jack's voice from the hallway.   
The Irishman entered the kitchen and froze in his place at what he saw. Mark just standing there with a large knife in his hand, shaking horribly. Jack cautiously approached his lover and took the blade. Fischbach looked down slightly to his Jack-a-boy. Tears slipped down Mark's face, McLoughlin wiped away the tears. Embracing each other in a tight hug, Mark cried into Jack's shoulder.   
"Dear God, Jack I can't do this anymore," Mark muttered against Sean's shoulder.   
Sean frowned then kissed Mark's temple through the faded blue floof of hair, "Mark, I know you can fight it. We have each other to keep goin'. Keep fightin'." He held the taller man closer. "We have each other."  
Mark sniffled then kissed Jack with deep passion and love. Sean cupped the strong man's rough cheeks then broke the kiss, resting his forehead his muscle lover.   
"I love you Mark."  
Mark smiled with a light chuckle, "I love you too, Sean."


	4. Chapter 4

Jack stayed awake all night to make sure that Mark didn't do anything to himself. He sat awake in their bed with his laptop and a cup of coffee. The Irishman gazed to his lover; sleeping soundly. Mark was face down in the pillow, mouth agape and snoring. It was the little things like this that made him. Jack closed his laptop then wiggled under the covers. Mark's arms wrapped around the smaller male then pulled him close. The safest place he could ever be; right in Mark's arms. 

The short Irishman felt the other man's chest carefully then kissed his rugged jawline. Mark's eyes slowly blinked open, looking so tired.

"Is something wrong Jack?" the Korean man murmured.

"I can't sleep ye bastard," Jack murmured back.

Mark chuckled softly then kissed at Jack's neck before moving over him. The two locked in a passionate kiss. Jack gripped the older man's shoulders then slipped his arms around his lover. The blue haired man moved his hand down to the green haired man's pants. Both moved out of their pants and shirts; never breaking their kiss. Jack grunted softly when he felt Mark's teeth bit down onto his neck. Their skin hot and soon glistening with sweat. Soon the green haired Irishman's shoulders were littered with bites and hickeys. It has been so long since they had done anything like this.

"Be careful 'bout yer dog bite, Mark," Jack whispered in their heated lust.

The blue haired man didn't seem to be listening, his arms tensed and veiny from his movements. Jack bit down on Mark's shoulder as he felt him enter. There body's fit like puzzle pieces. 

Slow movements, deep pleasure, hot breaths and passionate embrace. Both were filled with their compassion. Mark gripped the blankets tight as he felt Jack's nails rake down his back. Their voices echoed in the room, the air hot and filled with the sounds of their love. Jack cried out loudly as Mark finally reached his limit. The strong man held the smaller man in his arms as he filled Jack's insides. Jack moaned out at the hot feeling then rested his head against Mark's. The two lay side-by-side in the bed, exhausted. Jack smiled softly and kissed the other man's nose. 

"Thanks Mark," Jack managed to say in a voice of deep exhaustion.

Mark kissed Jack's forehead, "No problem, Booper Dooper. Can we sleep now, Sean?" 

Jack chuckled softly and cuddled against Mark's shaven chest as he fell asleep against his lover. God, everthing seemed to be picking up. This was the first time in months that Mark or Jack had the libido to do anything! 

~~~

The alarm clock rang out; Mark slamming his hand on the button. The strong man sat up with a groan; God he was so tired. He felt Jack's messy green fluff of hair before getting up to shower. Mark closed the bathroom door then unwrapped his arm. The dog bite was severe but, nothing he couldn't handle. Something in the mirror caught his attention, then he let out a sigh.

"What do you want, Darkiplier?" Mark asked the mirror.

The demonic reflection chuckled, "What a nasty bite. What happened?~"

The blue haired man sneered at the reflection before getting into the shower.

~~~  
Jack rose from the bed, rubbing his lower back. He grumbled then pulled on Mark's shirt and a pair of boxers. With coffee in hand, Jack lounged on the couch with his favorite program on. Well, it wasn't his favorite program but it was something.

"Mo'fuckin' badgers," Jack muttered under his breath. 

The man yawned then sat up, something moved out of the corner of his eye. Jack moved slowly and crept to their recording rooms. At Jack's computer sat that fucking bastard, Antisepticeye. 

"What the fock are ya doin' here?" Jack walked to him.

Antisepticeye tipped his hat to Jack before standing, "Nothin' to much Jack-a-boy. Jus' lookin' at yer computer. You caught a nasty virus~." The demonic man chuckled and leaned in at Jack, smirking a full mouth of sharp teeth.

"Yeah, you," Jack retorted. "What do ya even want? Really, what do ya even have to gain from doin' this shit?"

The Septicman glared and grabbed Jack by the shirt. Without any warning, Antisepticeye slammed a his fist against Jack's stomach. A harsh fire rose from the man's stomach and vomited onto the floor. The taste of bile and bitter sick filled Jack's mouth and some of it dripped from his nose. A hand placed firmly over his mouth, Jack looked up at Antisepticeye. Another swift blow to Jack's head, making him collapse to the floor fully. When Jack managed to stand, he saw blood dripping from the corner of his desk. 

He must have tripped or fallen but, God it was so real! Jack noticed the smell of his vomit on the floor then felt his head. A gash was bleeding on his temple. Jack moved carefully to the bathroom, Mark was just stepping out in a towel. 

"Jesus Christ, Sean!" Mark exclaimed then began to clean bandage Jack's head. 

"It's getting worse Mark," Jack muttered.

The toweled man wiped the vomit off Jack's facial hair. Tears ran down Sean's cheeks then he wrapped his arms around Mark.

"I'm scared Mark," Jack said quietly.


	5. Chapter 5

The nights seemed to last so long now. Jack and Mark never let each other out of sight. Fischbach held his lover close as they layed on the couch, watching a comedy movie. McLoughlin had his head rested on Mark's chest as he struggled to stay awake. Both men hadn't slept in almost two weeks. Medications were prescribed to them both by psychiatrists to aid their struggles. Mark gazed at Jack's arms, the horrible self-inflicted wounds were scabbed over. His thick fingers tenderly felt the wounds before holding Jack closer. 

The Irishman's eyes peeked open, "Mark? Ya okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just worried about you. Is the medication helping your blackouts at all?" Mark replied. 

Jack gave an exhausted nod, "Ye. But I still have nightmares of Antisepticeye. What about you?"

"I keep seeing Darkiplier but just a lot less. Sleeping is getting a bit easier."

McLoughlin yawned then sat up, "Mark, we should try to sleep tonight."

"You? Sleep?" Mark laughed weakly from exhaustion. 

"Ye. For once it sounds rather nice."

Mark sat up, making Jack stand up off him. They walked hand-in-hand to their bedroom. Jack closed his eyes as he felt Mark's large hands run down his sides. 

"How's your chest and shoulders?" he asked.

Jack removed his shirt, exposing the healing gashes he had inflicted on himself about a week ago. Fischbach tenderly kissed at the wounds of the leaner man. With such a genlte touch, Mark layed Jack down on the bed. The Irishman smiled gently as he felt Mark kiss and feel his skin. Not a single touch was sexual, all was just relaxing. 

Mark kept rubbing Jack's sides until he fell asleep. After Jack was comfortable, Mark himself wiggled into the bed. With Jack in his arms, the strong man drifted off as well. 

~~~

 

Day came early, about 5am. Jack's eyes slowly peeked open at the sound of the damn annoying birds. The lean man pushed himself up out of the bed, Mark's arm slipped down off his body. McLoughlin leaned down and kissed his strong lover on the cheek. It warmed his heart to see Mark smile in his sleep. He covered the man up before standing to go to the kitchen. Jack started to brew his coffee then took his pills out of their bottles. 

Just a few little pills was all he took, a bit more than Mark took. Popping the pills into his mouth then drinking down half a glass of water. Things were getting better now with medication to help along with Mark and his fanbase's support. Antisepticeye was more like a ghost now; lingering but never seen.   
Mark's eyes blinked open, stretching out his arms. Multiple cracks sounded as his spine popped from being in one position the whole night. With a grunt, Mark sat up from the bed, ruffling his hair. The strong man reached to his nightstand, taking a small shot glass in his hand. It held about six pills inside. A mouthful of water made he pills go down but some got stuck. Fischbach downed the rest of the water then shook his head. The medication tasted so disgusting when it got stuck on his tongue.   
He checked to see if his phone was fully charged; surprisingly it was. A smile was on his lips as he read tumblr and Youtube comments. His fans have been supporting him throughout his struggles. Some deeply understood what he and Jack were going through. It was nice to have so much support from everyone. The days were bright again and the sun held joy. 

The Irishman nestled himself on the couch with his coffee as Mark exited the bedroom. Fischbach put his arms around Jack's shoulders then kissed his cheek. They didn't need words to communicate at times. It was a feeling, a connection. Love. Mark had Jack and Jack had Mark. Both had family and their fans to help as well. Everything was looking up and going back to the way it was before "Condemned" came into their lives. Darkiplier and Antisepticeye were like spirits to the two now. Still following them deep inside but nobody could see. It could all be helped with love, family, friends and if need be, medication. Mark nuzzled up to Jack on the couch, kissing him on the nose. Jack held Mark close and closed his eyes.

"I love ya Mark."

"I love you too, Sean..."

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry if you guys hate the ending. I wanted to finish this fic for so long so I shortened it much shorter than i wanted to. I was just done writing it :( I hope you enjoyed it though!


End file.
